


If you'll still continue the journey with me

by Phelpshobbit



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Accidents, Angst, Descriptions of sex, Fighting, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, butt stuff, mild descriptions of injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 15:47:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phelpshobbit/pseuds/Phelpshobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never leave an argument unsolved. You'll never know what might happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If you'll still continue the journey with me

**Author's Note:**

> A big, BIG thank you and a huge hug to [allopoppet](../users/allopoppet) , who was kind enough to beta and do a lot of editing for this piece of a fic. Thank you a lot bby <3 *smooches you*

When Dean woke up in the morning, everything was fine. He could see that the sun was already high and he glanced at the clock on the nightstand, realizing then it was already noon. He hummed contently; it might have been the first night in a very long time he had gotten enough sleep and didn't have to wake up feeling like a living dead – nor hung-over. He didn't have to worry about leaving for work early in the morning either, because it was Sunday, and last Friday they finally had finished filming pick-ups for the Hobbit. Dean stared at the ceiling for a few moments, feeling a bit melancholic thinking about it.

It had been over two years since they’d first started filming at it had surely been an experience he'd remember years later and recall with warm thoughts, but it had also been a hard, physical job with all the makeup, wigs, heavy clothes and fighting and running around six days a week. Especially with pick-ups, since they had filmed mainly fight scenes during the last weeks. It wasn't easy being a dwarf. He had even managed to injure his knee while filming (damn that stupid goat). So all in all, even though he might have been sad about it all ending, he was also happy to be able to take a small vacation after it all.

The only thing missing right at that moment was the fact that Aidan wasn't there next to him, as Dean realized a short moment later. He furrowed his brows as he stared at the spot beside him where the Irishman should be lying, but then he smelled the familiar scent of fried bacon and toast coming from the direction of the kitchen, and he chuckled. Of course, it was late already so Aidan had probably woken up long before him, not daring to wake him up, knowing how tired he had been.

Dean yawned and stretched his limbs, finally managing to toss Aidan’s warm and comfortable blankets off of him, then he sat up and placed his feet on the sun-warmed floor. His eyelids still felt heavy and he had a slight headache (probably from sleeping too much). He ran his fingers through his dirty hair, deciding that a shower would do him good. It would also wake him up properly for the day.

After twenty minutes Dean came out of the bathroom fully clothed and a brace around his injured knee, beard shaven – now that filming was over he was finally able to do that – and yeah, properly woken up. If there was one thing Dean didn’t like about Aidan’s small apartment that he’d rented for himself for the time they were filming the movie, it was the shower. The damn thing never gave warm water, so every time Dean had to take a shower at Aidan’s apartment, he felt like he’d freeze his bollocks off. Strangely, Aidan never complained about it – he probably was the only person in the world who actually liked cold showers. Dean loved the guy, but there honestly were some things in him Dean just couldn’t understand.

But Dean didn’t let one cold shower shade his mind, and when he went to the kitchen, he had a wide smile on his lips.

“Morning,” he said to Aidan, standing on his tiptoes so that he could kiss the cheek of the man who was currently washing dishes. He then wrapped his arm around the Irishman’s back, listening to him chuckle at him, and Dean leaned closer to his body’s warmth. “You really should do something about the shower.”

“What could I do about it? You know the house is old – did you know that the old lady downstairs still has a gas stove in her apartment? So the pipes are old too and I really doubt the landlord would bother doing anything about it even if I complained about it to him. Nothing’s really broken in this house; it’s just so old that it may work… not perfectly. But the shower works just fine. I dunno what you’re talking about,” Aidan rambled, speaking a lot and quickly as usual.

Oh how like Aidan. When he started talking, there just sometimes seemed to be no end to it, not even in the morning. Maybe he just really, really liked his own voice? Not that Dean could blame him for that, he loved it too, especially with that accent.

“Yeah it works perfectly, except for the fact that I feel like a polar bear every time I take a shower in there.”

“If you were a polar bear, you’d enjoy the cold water.”

Dean rolled his eyes but laughed anyway, nuzzling his face into Aidan’s neck, making him finally tear his gaze from the dishes and look down at him. Dean looked up at him and watched as a smirk crept on Aidan’s lips.

“What happened to the beard? You looked good with it.”

Dean laughed. “Don’t I usually? I thought you preferred me without the beard.”

“I was starting to get fond of it. You look sort of boring without it…”

Dean hit him lightly on his arm, which only made him laugh. “Kidding, kidding! You look gorgeous as ever, Dean,” he chuckled and bent down to press their lips together. Dean hummed into the kiss and wrapped the arm that he’d held around Aidan’s back now around his neck, sliding his fingers into the dark, curly hair as he nibbled his lower lip. He might or might not have noticed that Aidan was a bit more tense than usual, but if he did, he didn’t care.

“Is there any breakfast for me left?” he muttered against the brunet’s lips, leaning closer to his body.

Aidan hummed and pressed a couple more of soft kisses on his boyfriend’s mouth before answering. “Not exactly,” he said. “There would have been if you hadn’t been a lazy ass and slept until noon so I, sadly, had to eat everything on my own. But there’s still coffee!”

“You’re an ass.”

“Only for you, darling,” Aidan smirked, wrapping his both arms around Dean’s back, and soon Dean felt water dripping down his spine. He jumped a bit and wriggled himself from Aidan’s grasp while the taller one just laughed at him.

“Never kiss a man who’s doing the dishwashing!” he giggled.

“You’re a dick, you know that?” Dean said but no matter how he tried to keep a straight face and look angry, he couldn’t but laugh along. He touched the t-shirt behind his back – the ‘damage’ didn’t seem to be that bad, the shirt would dry in a short time, he wasn’t bothered enough to go and change it.

Dean quickly fixed himself something to eat. The last time he’d eaten anything had been dinner yesterday, which seemed like it had been ages ago, and Dean was starving. Which was exactly why he nearly moaned when he got the first bite of a delicious sandwich.

After some minutes, when neither of them had said anything, Dean glanced at Aidan from behind the newspaper he was currently reading, and he furrowed his brows. Aidan actually did seem quite tense and Dean noticed he was rattling the dishes a bit louder than necessary. He sighed and swallowed the bite he was chewing.

“Aidan, what’s wrong?”

Aidan turned to look at Dean with raised brows, a glass in his hands. “Why?” he said, turning back to the sink as he shrugged. “Everything’s fine.”

Dean rolled his eyes. _Acting_. That was something the Irishman really was good at, but it wasn’t good enough to fool Dean.

“If everything was fine, you’d have said ‘nothing’s wrong’ instead of ‘everything’s fine’, and you’re tense. Aidan, you can be honest with me, you know that.”

“Dean, I –”

“Aidan.”

Aidan sighed heavily and turned back around, leaning to the edge of the counter. He took a towel from the table beside the sink and dried his hands in it, staring at a small hole in it before he spoke.

“…We need to talk, Dean.”

The expression on Dean’s face didn’t change, but he felt himself getting a bit nervous. When someone says “we need to talk”, it’s rarely about butterflies and bees.

“Figured as much. About what?”

Aidan took his time answering again. He seemed nervous too, as if he was afraid to say what he was going to say.

“I’m moving back to Ireland. Next week.” He wasn’t looking at Dean, only glanced at him shortly and then looked back at the towel in his hands, whereas Dean was staring right at his face, looking stunned.

“…What?” the blond managed to say after a moment. When Aidan didn’t reply and continued picking at the towel with his fingers, he continued. “Aidan, we’ve talked about this earlier… I thought we agreed you were going to stay here, in New Zealand?”

Aidan let out a heavy sigh and he finally put the towel down, then ran his fingers through his dark curls before he finally raised his gaze to meet Dean’s.

“We didn’t really talk it through, did we? I didn’t give it that much thought then, but… now I’ve been thinking, and I think it’s better if I move back to Dublin.”

Dean leaned his elbow on the table and his jaw against his hand, brows frowned. There it was: the subject they both had always been too scared to talk about. They knew, of course, that they lived on the completely different sides of the Earth, but they didn’t want to think about it, they always wanted to maintain the dream life they liked to have, simply being with each other for as long as they wanted. And now Aidan _had_ to bring it up.

He certainly could remember them having talked about the subject ages ago, before last Christmas, during the Hobbit premieres when they’d shared a hotel room together; sure, it might have been during an intimate moment but Dean could clearly remember Aidan promising him that when they’d finished the pick-ups, he’d stay there in New Zealand with him. So why change his mind now?

“Better, in what way? You do realize that if you move back there, we won’t see each other for a long, long time again?” Of course there still was the Boston Comic Con, but that was only for a few days.

Aidan bit his lip and frowned.

“…I knew you were going to be like this.”

“Like what?”

“Resistant. So unwilling to see the sense in this whole thing.”

Dean let out a frustrated sigh. “Because I don’t _see_ any sense in this.” He pursed his lips, then stood up and moved closer to Aidan, taking his hands carefully in his own and looking him in the eye. “If you go back there, we won’t see again for a very long time, you know that. We can’t keep flying to visit each other every weekend, it’s expensive and exhausting. It’d all be so much easier if we lived together.”

“We have phones, Dean, and Skype…”

“That’s not the same thing!” Dean groaned, letting go of Aidan’s hands. He was really becoming frustrated; how could Aidan not see how insane his idea sounded? Dean ran a hand across his face and turned his back to Aidan for a moment, and when he looked at him again he had his other hand resting on his waist.

“Do you know how hard it was for me after we finished the main shooting? When you went back home to Ireland and left me here? Do you have any idea how much I missed you, missed this?” he waved at the space between them. “Because, Aid, I can’t do that again. It was so fucking hard for me, you know?”

“It was hard for me too, Dean, you know it.”

“Well, you’re not exactly showing it, are you?”

Aidan narrowed his eyes as he stared at Dean. By now he wasn’t looking nervous at all any more, only slightly angry and frustrated, just like Dean was.

“You know there’s really no other option, Dean. I have work.”

“I have too –”

“And all of the work is outside New Zealand. After that I’ll probably get even more work, so staying here in New Zealand doesn’t really seem practical, does it?”

“You could find work from here too, you know.”

Aidan groaned and threw his hands in the air, as if saying ‘why am I even trying’.

“Why don’t you come with me then, huh? We’d be together, just like you want!”

Dean looked hurt.

“Just like _I_ want?”

Aidan opened his mouth to say something, but Dean continued: “And no, I can’t. That’s just insane.”

“Why is it insane? I think it’s a very similar idea than me staying here, it’s just as insane.”

“New Zealand is my home, I have my family and friends and everything here –”

“Ireland is my home, Dean!”

“You promised me, Aidan!” Dean’s voice was almost desperate as he said this. “You promised me you’d stay here! Of course I understand if you need to fly away to the US or Britain or wherever occasionally, we’re goddamn actors and you’re becoming more and more popular but that doesn’t mean you have to permanently move out of here - !”

“I haven’t promised you anything, O’Gorman.” The tone in Aidan’s voice was freezing.

They were both silent for a long while and just kept staring at each other through narrowed eyes, both waiting for the other to suddenly realize that they were wrong, to start apologize, but it obviously didn’t happen. As arguments go, they both thought themselves right, and that the other was wrong.

“Why can’t you just see my point in this? There’s really no sense in you going –”

“Because all I have is in Ireland, Dean! Work, friends, family, everything! I have nothing here!”

It became dead silent, the air between them so thick you could cut it with a knife as both of them thought about the words that had just been said. Aidan seemed to recover first and he opened his mouth to say something, but Dean let out a noise that was a mix of a sob and a laugh, and he took a step back as he stared at Aidan with a mocking sneer on his lips.

“Nothing? I see,” he said through gritted teeth, and the ghost of a smirk quickly left his expression. “So that’s what I am to you, Turner? Nothing?” He looked at Aidan who seemed to be stunned, then turned on his heels and marched away from the kitchen. Or more accurately, limped. He heard Aidan soon following him, but he didn’t turn to face him. The headache that had been haunting him in the morning started only getting more irritating and painful which made Dean even angrier about the whole situation. The knee didn't really help either. “No wonder why you’re so keen to leave, seeing I’m just some clingy brat who means _nothing_ to anyone –” he snarled, grabbing his coat from the rack.

“Dean, please, you’re being ridiculous…”

This had Dean spinning around so that he was face to face with Aidan, and the height difference really didn’t matter when he took a step closer to him, the surprised Irishman taking a step back. “ _I’m_ being ridiculous?” the Kiwi hissed. “Was it me who kept saying all those beautiful, clichéd thing about us always being together and shit like that, and then tell you it was all _nothing_?! Because you, Aidan, are a selfish fucking dick.”

Aidan and Dean never fought. Sometimes maybe they’d bickered a bit but they had always managed to either make it up or simply shrug it off very quickly, them both being very laid back and peaceful men. But it was apparent now that when they fought, they fought properly, with all the insults they could come up with and with no end to it. If Aidan had been sorry a moment ago, the insults he was greeted with managed to make him angry again.

“Me, selfish? Wasn’t it you who _demanded_ me to stay here with your precious little arse, saying that’s the only option and every other option is insane!?”

“Because it is! I can’t leave! But you know, whatever, you can just fuck off back where you came from for all I fucking care, back to your mom –”

Aidan groaned in frustration and took a quick step closer to him. Dean hadn’t expected that and was startled; the combination of having a black belt in karate, good reflexes, and being pumped with adrenaline meant that he reacted by grabbing Aidan’s arm. In one sudden movement he had it behind the man’s own back and pushed him face-first against the wall.

Aidan let out a loud groan and he tried to get his arm free and Dean let him go immediately. The brunet spun around, rubbing his arm with his other hand and stared with wide eyes at the shorter man, who just stood there in shock.

“What the _fuck_ , Dean? What was that?”

Dean opened his mouth, closed it and opened it again, so stunned by his own actions that he had no idea what to say.

“… Reflexes,” he eventually muttered, quickly averting his eyes from Aidan’s. He didn’t want to see the disbelief in those eyes. Dean cleared his throat and cursed under his breath. “…I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he picked up his coat from where he had dropped it on the floor. “I’m sorry – fuck!”

He made one last quick glance at Aidan’s confused and hurt face before he rushed to the front door and yanked it open, limping down the stairs, out of the building and back to his car, his heart beating fast in his chest.

***

The drive back home was difficult. Dean couldn’t stop thinking about the noise Aidan had made, the gasp in pain when he’d twisted his arm and practically smashed him against the wall – _or well, not smashed, more like “pushed”, right?_ This is how Dean tried convincing himself, that he hadn’t been too rough, that Aidan had _deserved_ it, for being such a dickhead…

But the truth was that the more Dean thought about it, the more nervous, anxious and horrible he felt. He’d promised himself already when he was young, that he’d never hit anyone, at least not his partner in a relationship (no matter if that partner was male or female). It didn’t matter how heated up things would get, he’d never do that. And now he had.

 _Well, technically, he hadn’t exactly hit Aidan, right?_ But that was how Dean felt – he definitely had hurt Aidan, against what he’d always promised him, that he’d never hurt him. He had gotten scared, he had seen the anger on Aidan’s face and for a fraction of a second he had gotten scared, and that was how he had defended himself. He’d thought Aidan would hurt him, but he also knew Aidan would never do that to him. Not physically.

 _But I hurt him_.

Dean saw something out of the corner of his eye, then put the brakes on as quickly as he could. The middle aged woman who was just crossing the road (and who he had nearly driven over) looked shocked for a while and then shook her fist at him as she continued on her way.

 _Your own fucking fault for trying to cross a road in front of the guy driving around just after breaking up with his boyfriend_ , Dean thought.

Breaking up.

Surely that wasn’t the case. They had fought, every single couple fight sometimes, and Dean and Aidan weren’t an exception. However, at least they were able to make it up afterwards. So could Dean and Aidan. There was only that small fact that Aidan was leaving…

Aidan was leaving, and then they'd never have time to properly talk again.

Dean felt his eyes sting with tears but he just swallowed them back, took hold of himself and drove safely back home.

~*~*~

Aidan was an idiot.

He really, really was the biggest idiot that had ever existed.

Well, maybe not as big of an idiot as Hitler. Then again, could you actually call Hitler an idiot, was that the right word to describe him? Probably not. Dean didn't care.

He groaned and sat on his favourite armchair, leaning his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

It was strange how life was. For instance, that very morning Dean had felt happy and in love. He had woken up and thought, “yes, this is going to be a good day.” He had walked to kitchen and saw Aidan, and he had smiled and though about in love he was with that man. Everything had seemed pretty positive.

And then after such a short moment, he hated the man as much as a person could hate another. Aidan was an idiot. Only an idiot would one day just decide they were going to leave, use that kind of poor reasoning he'd used, not even trying to listen to anyone other than himself and well... Only an idiot would be such a _dick._

Dean was sure he'd find someone else, someone better. He deserved someone better.

Or did he? He had gone all karate over him in the first place.

_Oh, but he deserved it. I'm better than him._

Then why did it hurt so much? Dean felt like something had stuck its claws in his heart and was pulling at it, and he felt his eyes burn with tears that he was too stubborn to let fall. He tried to not think about the fight but it was the only thing he _could_ think about, the only word he could think about was _Aidan, Aidan, Aidan._

Dean rubbed at his eyes and stood up, walked to kitchen, opened the fridge door, and grabbed a beer. He really needed alcohol in his system. He leaned against the counter and after drinking half a bottle he thought, “no, I'm not going to deal with this like an angsty teenager.” He put the half empty bottle back into the fridge and went to his bedroom. He slumped down on the unmade bed and lay on his back, staring at the white ceiling.

He should call Aidan. He should tell him he was sorry, because he really was. He was sorry that he hadn't tried harder to find a compromise. He was sorry that he’d hurt him, even if it was Aidan who had hurt him first. That was only verbal, however; Dean had hurt him physically. He took in a shaky breath. Aidan would never want him back after this.

Or maybe he was just overreacting? Really, he had only pushed him a little, that wasn't too violent. He had read about female celebrities, who'd been badly abused by their boyfriends and still had gone back to them. Dean hadn't really hurt Aidan that much, he'd probably forgive him.

Although he'd had to forgive Aidan first, it was him who started the fight.

Dean gritted his teeth together; He wanted to be angry to Aidan, he really wanted to hate him. He knew it was a defence mechanism, him trying to put the guilt on other people's shoulders so that he himself would feel better. But however hard he tried, he couldn't hate him. At the moment he only saw his flaws; the way the man kept leaving empty beer cans all around the house, the way he didn't bother trying to dry up the floor of the bathroom after showering, the way he bit the ends of pencils, how he talked too much when he shouldn't, how he always forgot to lock the door behind him. But he still cared for him. He didn't want them to fight.

Although, Aidan still was an idiot. Dean didn't call him.

He didn't miss him. That was what he thought, until he rolled on his side and smelled the scent of his pillow. It smelled like Aidan.

~*~*~

Dean was an idiot.

He really, really was an idiot.

Still not as much of an idiot as Hitler, but he still was a big idiot.

He really was overreacting. Now, hours later, when he'd calmed down, he was finally able to think clearly. He knew, of course, that he and Aidan had never fought, but there was the first time for everything, right? He was sure they'd get over this, find a solution to their problem.

Dean was watching television. Or actually, he really wasn't watching it but he pretended he was watching it when he actually was just thinking. Should he try talking to Aidan about him staying, could he assure him to do that? But no, the man had seemed pretty determined. Dean thought about moving somewhere with him, and he thought, why not? He'd lived in Australia and America earlier in his life, it wouldn't be so new to him. Maybe he didn't even need to necessarily move to Ireland. He might be able to convince Aidan to move to, for example, London with him.

Dean looked down at his phone in his hand nervously. For at least five times he'd thought about calling him, but had decided it wasn't his job to call him, that it should be the other way round... but Aidan hadn't called him, and Dean could very well understand why. He was probably scared. After all, Dean had never really as much as raised his voice and now he had sort of manhandled him. He felt bad, he really really did. He should call him, but he was scared too. Aidan was probably still angry at him, maybe he wouldn't even answer the phone.

And if he did, Dean wasn't too keen to hear the hate and despise in his voice. Dean had to admit that he was still angry himself, but he also knew he'd have to deal with it like an adult.

Dean sighed deeply and selected Aidan's number on his phone, but before he was able to press the call button, the phone suddenly buzzed. He jumped slightly, then saw Adam's name flashing on the screen.

Dean groaned in frustration (he really would rather not have to talk to anyone), but still answered to the call.

“Christ, Adam, you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Thank God, you're alright...”

Dean frowned. The tone in Adam's voice was clearly worried, and he heard him letting out a sigh of relief.

“Yeah. Sort of,” he answered. “Why wouldn't I be? Is something wrong?”

No answer.

“...Adam, are you okay?”

“Is Aidan with you?”

Dean pressed his eyelids shut, throwing his head back and rested it on the cushions.

“Not at the moment, no - “

“You sure?”

“ - nor will he most likely ever be again – I would bloody well know I he was here! If you're searching for him, you can ring him yourself -”

“He's not answering. Dean, his house blew up.”

Well, if Dean had been irritated a second ago, now he was just confused. His eyes flew open and he frowned. He could hear shuffling noises on the other end of the line, and he imagined it was Adam pacing around. There was also the sound of his rapid breathing.

“... Excuse me, want to clarify? What do you mean his house blew up?”

“I mean his house blew up! Dean, there's so much fire, there's fire trucks, ambulances, hang on -” Dean stared at the ceiling, all the time growing more confused and a heavy feeling settled in his stomach as he listened to more pacing, imagining Adam moved to the window to look out of it. He did live right in Aidan's neighbourhood, just on the other side of the street, after all. “Dean, they're carrying someone into one of the ambulances. Shit, I think it's -!”

Dean heard no more of Adam's talk. He'd already jumped to his feet, dropped his phone onto the floor, grabbed his keys and ran out of the door without even taking his coat or shoes with him.

_If something's happened to him, I'll fucking kill him._

Dean ran to his car and fumbled with the lock of his car for a while because his hands were trembling too much, and he cursed out loud (making some youngsters nearby stare at him like he was a madman, which he probably looked like; cursing loudly without any shoes). Finally he managed to open the door and he jumped in, started the engine and drove off.

By the time Dean finally arrived to the street Aidan's house was at, his heart was beating harder and faster than he'd ever remembered it beating before, as if he had just ran a marathon. He stopped the car to the other side of the street and looked at the house in horror. The fire trucks were blocking part of his view, but he still could see that most of the second floor's outside wall and its floor had blown up, as had a big part of the first floor's wall and a huge part of third floor's wall, and the roof had collapsed down, too.

Aidan lived in the third floor.

Dean stumbled out of the car, not even bothering to close the door or lock it as he rushed closer, eyes wide at all the smoke and the fire that the fire-fighters were trying to put out, but he was soon stopped by a policeman.

“Can't go there, sir.”

Dean tried to bat the man's hands away and get through, feeling more and more panicked every moment. “Let me through,” he almost yelled, hearing his own voice tremble. Aidan could still be there, he needed help, he needed his help...

“Sorry, but you need to back off.”

“Dean!”

Dean turned to the voice calling him, and saw Adam rushing towards him.

“Dean! Are you alright?” the younger man worried as he came to him, placing both his hands on Dean's shoulders. Dean was breathing heavily, he tried to calm down but he couldn't, there was too many thoughts running in his head. “Dean?” Adam asked again when he didn't answer.

“...What- What happened, Adam?” he stuttered after a moment, staring at Adam's face. The man really looked worried. Adam looked at him from toe to head and sighed, pulling off his coat and wrapping it around Dean's shoulders. Only now Dean noticed he hadn't even taken his coat with him.

“I don't know, Dean, I'm really not sure at all – I talked to one of the policemen earlier but he said they didn't know yet either what caused the explosion. I wasn't here when it happened, I was just out buying some stuff and then I came home and...”

Suddenly Dean heard Aidan's voice in his ears, and he realized.

_Did you know that the old lady downstairs still has gas stove in her apartment?_

“...Shit,” he mumbled.

Adam looked at him his eyes squinted. “What?” he asked, wrapping his arm around Dean's shoulder and walking him away from all the chaos, onto the pavement on the other side of the street.

“I remember, he – he mentioned that the lady on the second floor, she still had a gas stove -”

“So it was a gas leak.”

“Yeah. Yeah, probably.”

It really didn't make Dean feel any better. Adam studied his face for a while, then sighed and started walking Dean towards his car.

“Come on, we need to get to the hospital.” Dean stared at him confused, so he continued. “We need to go see if Aidan's there.”

Dean stopped him and now it was his turn to grab his shoulders. “But what if he's still in there, what if Aidan is still there in the middle of all the fire, all alone and passed out or something, he needs help -” Adam stopped him by raising his hands in the air in front of him. Dean silenced and bit his lower lip nervously, and Adam sighed.

“We can't really help him if he is, can we? The hospital is where he'd end up in anyway,” Adam shrugged. Dean stared at the ground, then nodded and stepped to his car, but was again stopped by Adam.

“Come on, you won't be driving anywhere in that state, Dean, you're shaking.”

He really was, he was shaking like a leaf in the wind and it wasn't because of the cold. He really was scared. He didn't know if Aidan was alright or if he was dead, he didn't know where he was and he was just so, so scared. He let out a frustrated groan and climbed in the passenger seat. Adam sat in the driver's seat and started the engine, then turned the car around, heading to the direction of the hospital.

There had been a moment when Aidan had scared Dean in a way a bit similar to this, earlier. It had been just a couple of weeks ago when they'd still been filming the Hobbit, the scene where Fili and Kili die. They'd been lying on the ground waiting for the cameras to stop rolling, covered in dirt and fake blood. When Dean had finally heard the “CUT!” yelled by Peter, he had sat up and stretched his limbs. He'd kicked his on-screen brother, off-screen lover gently in his leg, told him to get his arse off the ground and then started walking away to get his makeup off. Then, when Aidan still hadn't stood up and started following him, he's returned back to him.

“ _Aidan?”_ he'd called, but Aidan had just laid there his eyes close. Dean had crouched down beside him, slapped his cheeks, shaken him, called for him, but hadn't gotten any reaction. Only when Dean had almost started crying, Aidan had jumped up and laughed, saying “Gotcha!”

Dean had punched him then.

But now Aidan wasn't anywhere near to laugh at him for being so scared over a joke; this time it wasn't a joke. Not even Aidan would blow up his neighbour’s apartment for a joke, after all.

Adam glanced at him shortly before turning his gaze back to the road.

“So what happened between you two?”

Dean didn't look up at him. “Hm?”

“You sounded upset in the phone. What happened, do you want to talk about it?”

Dean let out a trembling sigh and looked out of the window. “We had an argument,” he muttered. “We – he said he was going to move back to Ireland and I got angry and we fought, and -” He bit his lower lip, sniffing. He wasn't going to cry, but he still was as nervous and scared as he could possibly be. He had a heavy feeling in his stomach and he held his phone tightly in his hand, waiting for someone to call him and tell just any kind of – preferably positive – news about Aidan. He swallowed. “He could be dead and the last thing I did was throw him against the wall and shout abuse at him...”

“Dean, he's not dead.”

“You can't be so sure! It was a fucking gas explosion, Adam, people die in accidents like that!”

“But he's not. I'm certain about it, Dean. I saw them carrying someone into the ambulance, I'm not sure if it was him, but... I'm sure he's just alright.”

Dean didn't argue with that because he really wanted to believe what Adam said was true, even if he didn't feel like it.

After ten minutes they finally arrived to the hospital and they rushed in through the doors. Dean was already hurrying toward the reception, but Adam grabbed his arm and stopped him, pushing him to sit on a chair, pressing a hand on his shoulder.

“You just wait here; I'll go ask if they're brought him here.”

Dean nodded weakly and stared at the floor when Adam left. He grabbed a magazine from the seat beside him but after only a short moment he threw it away, knowing he couldn't concentrate on reading.

 _'Please be alright, please...'_ He thought.

It wasn't long until Adam returned, sitting down beside him, looking frustrated.

“The receptionist said that Aidan hasn't at least been registered in their computers and her shift just started so she hasn't seen anyone being brought in either,” he sighed as he crossed his arms. “She said she'd go find a doctor who'd know something but it might take a while.”

“So we wait?”

“Yeah.”

Dean groaned, closing his eyes. He still was trembling when he pressed his hands together, leaning his forehead to them and his elbows on his knees, praying to every deity he knew of that Aidan would be alright, unhurt, or at least alive, it really was the least he could ask for. He only wanted to see Aidan, still breathing and smiling, so he could say he was sorry and embrace him and spend the rest of his life with him.

They'd been in that hospital twice before. The first time had been last year during the main shooting, when Aidan had wrenched his wrist when he'd tripped over a branch in set. The second time had been when Dean had fallen off the fake goat and hurt his knee. Both times they'd taken each other to the hospital and they'd come out laughing at how stupid they were.

But now it was so silent and no one was laughing, there weren’t many other people in the hall and Dean could only just hear someone whispering something to someone else in the distance. The white walls looked so much colder than Dean had remembered. He gritted his teeth and put his head between his hands, running his short fingers through his own hair, feeling Adam's hand stroking his upper back. Time went way too slow. Dean had just decided that if someone wouldn't tell him anything soon, he'd go look for Aidan himself, but then he heard a door open somewhere and he raised his head to look at the direction of the noise.

A nurse with a long, blonde ponytail came out of the room along the corridor. She stopped and turned around holding the door open for someone, and soon a taller man with dark, dirty curls came out, smiling at the nurse who closed the door after him. Dean stood up, but Adam grabbed his sleeve. The nurse and the man were talking about something and then they turned to walk along the corridor, and now Dean could properly see his face. It really was Aidan.

Dean let out a dry sob as relief washed over him and he shook Adam's hand away, rushing towards the man.

“... I know, if I could only get a phone, I'd call him and –” Aidan stopped when he raised his gaze from the nurse to look at the man rushing towards him, and his face softened and he started moving towards him too.

Dean wrapped his arms around Aidan's shoulders and Aidan hugged his middle tightly while he buried his face in his shoulder.

“You're alive, thank God you're alive...” Dean murmured against his lover's chest and Aidan's arms tightened around him as he felt the man nuzzle his face against his neck, feeling his warm breath against his skin.

They held each other for a moment but then Aidan grabbed Dean's shoulders and pushed him back slightly, just enough so that he could see his face. Dean's eyes were red and his lips stretched in a pained expression when he looked up at him, his other hand's fingers in his hair.

“What are you doing in here, Dean? How did you –”

“Adam called me. He said you weren’t answering your phone...”

Aidan glanced at Adam who was still standing at the chairs Dean and him had been sitting on a while ago, and he sighed.

“Alright.”

Dean was now cupping his face and Aidan flinched, making Dean quickly pull his hands away. Dean studied his face and he now noticed the red spots on the left side of his face and neck, and the took his hands seeing those same red marks, slightly darker, on his left hand's fingers, and there was a bandage on the back of his palm. Aidan bit his lower lip when he looked down at their hands.

“They're only first degree burns, it's nothin' bad, I'm fine.”

Dean sniffed. Until now he'd only been nervous and scared and slightly shocked, but now he felt like crying.

“I'm just so relieved to see you,” he mumbled, looking back at his boyfriend's face and he cupped his healthier cheek. “Y-You could've died, I thought you were dead and the last thing we did was fight, I'm so sorry, Aidan, I'm so sorry I hurt you – I though, I thought you were dead...” he rambled, but Aidan placed a finger on his lips and smiled at him sadly.

“Shhh, it's alright,” he said quietly, wiping away the first tear that had rolled on Dean's cheek with his thumb. “I'm okay, see? I'm alive, I'm still here.”

Dean whimpered and winded his arms around Aidan's neck and brought his head down to press their lips together for a soft kiss. Aidan hummed into the kiss and slid his fingers in Dean's short hair. The kiss was soft but affectionate and so desperate, and only now Dean really realised what really had happened. It was like he'd been in a dream for the past hours and was now woken up; He really could have lost Aidan, it had been so close but there he was, alive and standing.

Dean let out a sob against Aidan's lips and his legs gave out. Aidan, whose arms still were tightly around him, fell to the floor with him on their knees, and Dean buried his face into Aidan's neck again. He had never felt that relieved about anything in his life. He couldn't stop his tears when he cried like a child against Aidan's warm skin, and Aidan, who he loved more than anyone or anything, sat there holding him for as long as it was needed.

At some point Dean's crying faded to sniffling, and a short moment after to heavy breathing, and Aidan pressed light kisses on his temple while he calmed down.

“... I can't believe I broke down like that in the middle of a hospital hallway,” he mumbled against Aidan's shirt, slightly embarrassed, if not a bit amused. He heard Aidan laugh warmly, felt his chest tremble because of it, and when he looked up, he saw his eyes and nose were slightly red too.

“It's fine, really,” Aidan said. “If I had thought I had lost someone as handsome as me, I'd cry too.”

Trust Aidan Turner to turn everything into a joke.

Dean rolled his eyes and nudged Aidan's shoulder slightly, with a small smile on his lips. Aidan just chuckled and leaned in to press another kiss on his boyfriend's lips.

The stood up with each other's help and walked to the nurse, who had went to talk with Adam in order to let the two men alone for their little breakdown. The nurse turned to see them when she heard them coming closer and she flashed a smile to Dean.

“You must be Mr O'Gorman, I presume?” she asked, tilting her head. Dean simply nodded, and they shook hands as the nurse introduced herself.

“We thought about calling you, but now that you're here we don't necessarily have to do that, do we?” She let out a short laugh and Dean answered with a slight smile. “So, the thing is that Mr Turner here has a mild concussion, and he needs to be woken up twice during the night to, you know, check his condition and the state of consciousness. There might be slight headache, nausea, dizziness, difficulties with concentrating, weariness, stuff like that. The doctor said that it should not be anything serious, but he still thought it would be better if he'd been looked over for the night. We could keep him here in the hospital, but he mentioned your name and said you could do it, which would be fine with us. Do you think you would be able to do that?”

Dean blinked a few times, slightly taken aback by the sudden verbal diarrhoea from the nurse, but he nodded anyway.

“Yeah... I guess, yeah?” he glanced at Aidan with his brows furrowed but the man only shrugged.

“Great,” the nurse said and smiled, then turned to Aidan. “So, you're only ordered to take painkillers if needed, but if any of those symptoms I listed before get any worse, or you'll start seeing things duplicated or have difficulties with walking or talking, or you're having difficulties with waking up -”

Aidan chuckled weakly. “Yeah, you told me already...”

“- you'll contact us again, alright?”

Aidan nodded shortly. “Yeah, we'll do that.”

The nurse flashed another smile at them. “Great. Goodnight, then,” she said, walking off to continue her work somewhere else.

The three men watched her for a while, but then Adam clapped his hands together.

“Alright, I think we'll go then. I'm still driving, don't complain,” he said, pointing at Dean and then turned around to lead them out the doors.

“I'm not complaining,” Dean mumbled. Aidan took his hand and entwined their fingers together as they followed Adam, and he didn't let go until they had both climbed into the backseat of the car. Dean pulled Aidan's head to rest against his shoulder. They didn't talk until Adam had driven the car out of the hospital's car park.

“So, concussion, huh?” Dean murmured in Aidan's hair, which smelled like dirt and smoke, but still of Aidan.

“Mm-hm.”

“How come? What happened, exactly?” Dean asked and opened his eyes to look down at Aidan, who straightened his back to look back at him. “I mean, I'm glad that you're fine, I really am, but you should be more hurt or... gone,” Dean continued, his voice quiet. Aidan sighed at his boyfriend's sad tone and pressed their foreheads together, closing his eyes.

“I wasn't home when it happened,” he muttered. “I was shopping, I was just getting some milk and beer and stuff from the shop down the street. I hadn't even gone in yet; I was just a few feet from the door when it happened and... I don't know. I must have tripped by the force of it and hit my head, 'cause the next moments are still a bit of a blur to me. I just remember there was a lot of fire and then someone helped me to an ambulance.”

Dean kissed the corner of his mouth. “And how are you feeling now?”

Aidan smiled slightly. “Tired. My head aches too, and the back of my hand, but mostly I'm just tired.”

Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him to rest against his chest again. “And the lady downstairs? I figured it was her who caused it, since you mentioned the gas stove.”

Aidan froze.

“... Shit. You're probably right. I didn't even think of that.”

Dean rested his cheek on the top of Aidan's head. “Sorry.”

“She's probably dead then... shit. She was a nice woman.”

“Maybe that's not the case. Maybe she wasn't home either, maybe it was something else that started the explosion.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Neither of them really believed that, however; they both knew that the lady was dead. But they made a silent agreement not to talk about it, at least until anything was confirmed.

They finally arrived to the building Dean lived in, which was a five-storey block of flats. Only now, after Dean had stumbled out of the car, Aidan noticed his lack of shoes and only after a fit of laughter he managed to stumble out of the car himself. Once he’d promised Adam a dozen times that it was okay for him to loan the car and drive himself home with it, Adam drove off, and Dean and Aidan went in and took the lift to the upper floor. Dean took Aidan's hand again and led him to his apartment.

Dean still had that sick feeling in his stomach, that fear of losing Aidan. He couldn't stop thinking about it; he still had images in his head of Aidan, lying there on the pavement or in his apartment, the roof collapsed on his bloody and burnt body. Dean didn't like those images and he tried to convince himself that Aidan still was there and still was alright. He couldn't stop tracing his fingers along his soft skin, couldn't stop burying them in his almost black hair or stop kissing his lips, but it wasn't enough, the feeling still was there.

At some point they had managed to make their way to Dean's bed, undress and collapse to the bed on top of each other with heated kisses, but even when Aidan slowly thrust into him, the feeling in his guts wouldn't fade away.

Dean winded his arms around Aidan's back as they tried to find a steady pace, Aidan pushing deep inside him with slow movements while Dean moved his hips up against him. Dean stroke his back, scraped his nails along his spine and placed them flat on his shoulder blades again to keep him as close as possible. He wanted their chests pressed together to feel his heart beating against his. He cupped Aidan's face and kissed him slowly and affectionately, with all the emotion he could flood into the kiss. Aidan traced his tongue along Dean's lower lip and then nibbled gently at it, thrusting into him quickly and Dean groaned. Aidan placed another kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“You alright?” the brunet whispered, and Dean opened his eyes to look up at him. He didn't answer, fearing his voice might break if he did, so he just nodded, keeping his lover close to him. He didn't understand why the feeling just wouldn’t go away; Aidan was there as close to him as a person possibly could be, but it still felt like he wasn't, because it’d been so close that he wouldn't have. But he was still there, wasn't he? It wasn't a dream or anything, right?

Aidan groaned loudly and rested his head against Dean's shoulder. He slowed down the rhythm and Dean sighed, kissing his temple.

“Headache?”

Aidan muttered something incoherent in answer.

“Roll over, would you?” Dean murmured in his ear. Aidan raised his head to place another kiss on Dean's jawline, then nodded and he pulled out, before rolling on his back beside Dean and burying his head into the pillows. But Dean immediately followed him, straddling his hips. He lined Aidan up with his entrance to push down on his cock again, earning a soft moan from Aidan's throat. Dean smiled shortly at the reaction he'd caused, then starting to move to find the right pace again and Aidan grabbed his waist to help him with it. Dean leaned down to stroke his hands over Aidan's chest, feel the muscles and the warm skin that could be cold, feel the heartbeat that could not be there, feel his chest rise and sink with his heavy breathing that could've stopped... Dean bit his lip and tried his best to not let out a sob.

“Hey,” Aidan whispered, reaching his hand to cup Dean's face, as if he'd read his mind. “It's okay.”

Dean let out a quiet laugh. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

Aidan ran his fingers down along Dean's arms and moved his hands from his chest, taking them in his own, their fingers entwined. “It's all over now, Dean,” he whispered. “I'm still here, I'm completely fine, I'm very much alive. I'm here, Deano, I'm here.”

Dean bowed his head and closed his eyes, squeezing Aidan's hands tightly with his fingers. Finally it felt like the heaviness in his stomach was leaving; he couldn't believe himself, but he definitely wanted to and could believe Aidan's words – he still was there, and he wasn't going anywhere.

Dean let out a whimper as he pressed Aidan's hands against the mattress just above his head, their fingers still entwined as he pushed down on him, enjoying the feeling of him completely filling him. Aidan bucked his hips up with just as much passion as they found their pace again.

After a few more moments, Aidan came inside Dean with a loud groan, Dean following not far behind, shooting his thick load over Aidan's stomach and chest. The both were panting and breathing heavily, and when Dean reached to grab a towel from the side of the bed they still had their other hands held together.

“This is all so sweet I'm going to start vomiting rainbows soon,” Dean mumbled with a chuckle. After he'd cleaned their mess he tossed the towel away, then lay down next to Aidan and pulled the duvet over their bodies.

Aidan let out a soft laugh and he pressed his forehead against Dean's and looked him in the eye.

“You're allowed to be all romantic and sweet and delicate for once or twice in your life even if we're both men, you know,” he said with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Dean still couldn't stop touching him and he pressed another brief kiss on his boyfriend's lips, tracing his fingers up and down his chest, then stopping to place his palm flat over his heart, comforted by the soft beating against his hand.

“I know,” he murmured, kissing the tip of Aidan's nose, which made the man let out a quiet giggle. Dean moved so that he was resting his head on Aidan's chest, wrapping his arm tightly around him. They both kept silent for a while and when Dean thought Aidan had already fallen asleep, he heard him talking again.

“So, I guess I'll need to move here for a while. At least until I go back to Ireland.”

Dean sighed.

“Yeah, about that, I'm sorry.”

Aidan raised his eyebrows and looked down at Dean, even if he didn't see it. “How do you mean?”

“About the fight. I seriously was unreasonable, I think I didn't even try to see your side of it.”

Aidan inhaled a deep breath and then let it out as a sigh, and Dean was sure Aidan didn’t feel like talking about it yet, but he did anyway.

“Yeah, well... I think we're both to blame about it. I'm sorry too; I could've acted more like an adult.”

“But I hurt you. I never meant to do that, I'm so sorry.”

Aidan laughed at that, and he raised his hand to stroke Dean's hair gently. “Yeah, well, I think the explosion hurt me a bit more,” he said, chuckling. “It didn't really hurt, Dean, I was only surprised. What an awesome ninja move that was, though.”

“I hope you don't tell anyone about it though, because if you have a black belt in karate and you use it to protect yourself, it's actually often treated as overdoing self-defence, no matter how much damage you cause or don't cause.”

“Really?”

“Really. It's a bit mad, though.”

“It is, really. Yeah, I'm not going to tell anyone, I don't want you in jail.”

“Thank you,” Dean laughed. “But anyway. I decided I'll move with you.”

Dean could feel Aidan still completely; he even stopped breathing for a moment. Then he heard a confused “What?” He was now drawing different shapes and circles on Aidan's chest, brushing over all the chest hair.

“To Ireland. Or preferably to England, if that's okay with you. It would still be closer to Ireland than New Zealand is. But, anywhere you're going, I'll follow you. On one condition, though.”

“Yes, I'll shave my chest hair.”

This made Dean burst out laughing and Aidan couldn't help but laugh too.

“Why would you do that?” Dean chuckled, bending his neck back so that he could see Aidan's face. Aidan just shrugged, raising his eyebrows.

“Well I just thought, the way you keep stroking it...”

“No, you don't have to shave your chest hair. The condition is that I can take Batman with me. How would you like that?”

Aidan smiled down at him with his most affectionate smile and Dean was sure he could melt.

“Yeah, that's fine with me,” the Irishman murmured softly. “I'd love to live with you, Dean. And yeah, England is fine.”

Dean broke into a wide, all-dimples smile. “Lovely,” he simply answered.

“Are you sure, though?”

Dean nodded briefly, nuzzling his face to Aidan's neck.

“Yeah. Because if there's one thing I've learned today, it is that I can't live without you. I simply can't,” he said quietly, his voice wavering slightly. “I know I don't say it nearly as often as I should, but I really do love you, Aid.”

Dean heard a low “Awwww” and then both of Aidan's arms were tightly around him and he was being covered in smooches everywhere Aidan's lips only could reach.

“Stop it, please!” Dean laughed, but if he tried to push away, his attempts were really half-hearted. Aidan just squeezed his arms tighter around him and kissed his hair.

“I love you too, Dean, I love you so much. Even if I'm a bit of a dick sometimes, don't you forget that.”

Dean kissed his neck. “Yeah, I'll keep it in mind. And oh, another thing I learned: never leave an argument unsolved.”

“Yeah, that's good to remember, too.”

Dean pushed himself up on one elbow and ran his fingers along Aidan's warm skin from his chest to his face, stroking the side of his face and his hair gently, looking down at him with a slightly sad expression.

“I don't know what I'd have done if I'd lost you, Aid. I was so scared when Adam first called me, I... you mean the world to me.”

That definitely wasn't anything that Dean O'Gorman would usually say; he usually showed his emotions better through acts than words, but for some reason that wasn't enough this time, he simply had to make sure that Aidan knew.

Aidan looked up at him with just as affectionate expression, and he didn't seem to mind the bit uncharacteristic behaviour of Dean's. He brushed his fingers across his cheek, taking in a deep breath before he talked.

“Yeah, I can imagine how you felt. I'd probably had felt the same if something had happened to you, too,” he said, biting his lower lip. “You know, I'm actually glad about the fight, because at least you'd left and you weren't there either.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Dean's mouth and he leaned in to kiss his lover's perfect, soft lips.

Then Aidan groaned again.

“Headache, still?”

Aidan nodded briefly, stroking his hand over his own forehead. Dean patted his chest gently, then crawled from under the duvets and from the bed. After a quick trip to kitchen, he soon returned with a glass of water and some painkillers. Aidan threw the pills in his mouth and downed the water to wash them down his throat. Then they lay back in the bed under the duvet, arms and legs wrapped around each other. Dean took his phone to set an alarm after a couple of hours so that he could wake Aidan up like the nurse had told him to (being the perfect boyfriend he was).

“Thank you,” Aidan murmured against Dean's neck. “Love you.”

Dean pressed a couple of light kissed on his temple, tightening his arms around him just slightly.

“Just go to sleep, baby.”

In no time Aidan's breathing turned heavy and slow, and Dean knew he'd fallen asleep. He opened his eyes to look down at him, stroking his hair that still smelled like smoke. It reminded Dean of all that had happened during the day, every horrible and sad thing. It’d definitely been one of those that made people think about how horrible and unfair things could happen just like that, without a warning. People had died, after all. Dean didn't like thinking about it, but he had the feeling that more people than just the lady downstairs had lost their lives, or at least gotten injured. The accident had been a serious one, really. It’d been a day that had been so cruel to so many people, and it had probably gotten so many people begging for the world to be even a slightly fairer place to live in.

Dean closed his eyes again and pressed his cheek against the top of Aidan's head, burying his face into his hair.

Because what could he still ask from the world, when his whole world lied in his arms?


End file.
